SEFLIM, SEFLIM ANDRUV Ö NEIL

***On planter Gieâ..

***Imperial grounds..

***In the Imperial Chambers of Imperial Consort Tamara..

...

Consort Tamara's personal bedroom/chambers truly is an artistic sight to behold for all.

The bedroom is not in a specifically defined shape as the walls seems to be smoothly waved either inwards or outwards.

The open chamber is over a hundred square feet wide and it is enclosed by distant wavy walls that seem to be made from a non-reflective sliver material. These wavey sliver walls are stained only by a few massive precious gems.

There are simple yet beautifully carved engravings that seems to form a ring through the room's slivery walls.

All of these put together shows clearly that the wide chamber is designed to showcase not just luxury but rather the Majesty behind its ownership.

There is not an abundance of structures placed in the room's space though the few present are positioned in the space with simple and boundless grace.

The room can be said to lack complexity yet one thing this room absolutely does not lack is order, beauty and space.

Everything is spaced from everything in this room. The excess space adds a certain charm to the room in a way that seems to intensify the claim of majesty that the room undeniably showcases.

The toned floor of the room is a polished blend of cream and white that comes together so beautifully that the floor looks to be made from a single massive slate of rare marble -and perhaps it is-.

On the room's high roof hangs a transparent icy-sculpture of a flood dragon. This flood dragon sculpture has its snake like body flowing all over the roof while giving the faint illusion that the sculpture is actually moving around.

A massive blue and purple gem hangs in the flood dragon sculpture's mouth in order to complement its luxury as well as add some mystery to the room's setting.

Consort Tamara's royal bed's frame is made out of what seems to be a rare brown toned wood that's laced with luxurious metal and gems.

Certain emerald gems embedded in the bed frames would sometimes give barely noticeable pulses of life energies. These energies gently travel through vein-like structures all across the bed's surface and then into Tamara's exhausted body that's currently lying on the massive bed's surface.

For a person who have just come out of the labour room, Imperial consort Tamara's fragile body passively absorbs the rich high-level life essence from her bed like a sponge.

Lying in her bed, Tamara supports her back with two pillows as she is gently pating the back of her first son who is currently sleeping beside her with his body cuddled up into her warmth.

Despite just ten years old, the kid is very emotional sensitive. He has obviously been worried about his mother going into labour. He has waited patiently for his mother and he is only able to relax now that the moment of tension has washed over.

Running her hand through her son's deep blue hair, Consort Tamara cannot help but give a gentle smile. Despite his age, her first son is much of an over-thinker in a sense though her heart feels warmth and her spirit is a bit stronger knowing how much he worries for her.

Still gently running her hands through her sleeping son's blue hair, consort Tamara hears a sudden cry that prompts her to adjust her exhausted body a bit more upright against her pillow.

"*Sob¡*.. Waaahhhh!.. waa.. waahh!.."

Looking towards the not-so-distant luxurious white cradle at her far left, Consort Tamara sees as her second daughter stands over her tippy toes in an attempt to reach the baby lying down in the white cradle.

The curious young princess looks like she would fall into her baby sister's cradle at any moment but then, a woman dressed in soft white robes comes seemingly from nowhere before approaching to take the crying baby out of the cradle.

"Sssssshhhhh!.", The fair middle aged woman hisses a low hush tone that seems to immediately settle the new-born child in her arms and then she gives her greeting bow towards Consort Tamara.

Looking at the scene just displayed, Consort Tamara is not at all surprised by the appearance of the unfamiliar nanny.

Each of her children has one assigned to them right at birth as well as countless maids and guards of numbers that Tamara cannot even register.

The maids, nannies and guards all try their bests to make their presence invincible unless necessary though this does not mean that they are not present.

It is just a matter of the moment of need.

"Your Elegance.. my humble self is named Balle Nora and if I have your blessings, I would get the greatest honour of watching over the Imperial Princess as she blossoms into her teenage days.". The nanny calmly presents herself before the Consort Tamara while maintaining a small bow.

Tamara looks at the new Nanny without much reaction. She has been through this process twice already and have learnt the Imperial etiquette on how to handle these situations.

"You have my blessings.", Consort Tamara calmly says while the Nanny bows a bit lower before raising her head.

"The princess seems hungry. With your guidance I'll get her nobility a proper diet that's set with the most scrupulous ingredients rich with whatever affinities or energies you highness may desire.", The nanny humbly proposes to Imperial Consort Tamara.

"I'll breastfeed my own daughter.", Imperial consort Tamara responds much to the surprise of the Nanny.

Usually, consorts and nobles are known to stuff their children with as much energy rich food they can handle in order to boost bloodline, affinities and the martial developments of the growing child.

Breastfeeding is only done when the mother's system has better energies that can produce better results in the offsprings and being honest, compared to the talent levels of the new-born child, Consort Tamara is severely lacking in all regards!.

The surprise and confusion about Consort Tamara's response stays completely internal as the Nanny shows none of it on her face.

As per Consort Tamara's words, the nanny immediately walks over to the bed before handing the child over to her Mother with a bow.

Loosing her already loose robe and about to begin the process of breastfeeding, a foreign presence morphs into the room with a distinct aura, power and authority that can only be traced back to one person in the entire Continent.

Without even daring to look, the nanny immediately bows down with her forehead touching the marbled floor as shivers of fear races through her body like currents.

"Y-your Eminence!.", The Nanny greets with a slightly trembling voice that contains both fear, profound respect and even a hint of worship. Her body shivers uncontrollable in waves of emotions she is not even sure she can feel until this moment.

Standing behind her is the Emperor of the Continent who is adorned in a heavenly gold, white, red and purple royal robes that has images of eclipse dragons literally swimming through it.

His feet are completely covered by his wide robes which trails behind him while leaving a unduplicatable aura of power in the very fabrics of reality.

The flood dragons in his robes seems to want to rule and break the very heavens yet they are perfectly under the Emperor's control as they only dare to breath when he does and only dare to move as he allows.

Unlike what one would expect, the Emperor wears no crown placed atop his untoned deep blue hair instead, there sits an inch-long slim gem at the centre of his forehead.

This gem seems to be filled with a blue and purple liquid that gives a dragoniod aura as it signifies the Emperor's authority over the waters, the earth and the very skies of this Continent!.

The Emperor's sharp toned brows has a lighter shade of blue than his hair though these sword like brows are currently relaxed. Beneath his brows lies eyes with a colour that should only belong to oceans.

The Emperor's sharp nose creates the perfect bridge that makes all his distinct features come together into the masculinity art.

Sparing the bowing nanny not even a single glance, the Emperor steps forward to his newborn child that's cradled in the arms of her mother. The ground seemed to ripple gently in the minds of all before his steps only for the ripple waves to be pacified by his trailing robes.

In a sense, it almost seems like even the air and ground are eager to bow towards the Emperor. In a way that defies reality, it only takes the Emperor two small steps before he's standing by his consort's side.

Looking right at consort Tamara, the Emperor sees tender brown eyes filled with anger, happiness, dissatisfaction, relief and other emotions he cannot even be bothered to interpret.

"Y-your your Majesty.", A childish voice interrupts the Emperor's thoughts as his calm face turns to the source.

A small girl. His 43rd daughter and consort Tamara's second child is trying to act noble only to come off as cute as she gives a clumsy bow from across the bed.

Looking at Monet, the Emperor cannot stop his lips from giving a small arch as he says – "Monet, Call me father."

The cute daughter of his blinks the adorable brown eyes she has obviously gotten from her mother twice before speaking.

"Fa-father." Monet says as she fumbles with her skirt as a small hint of red appears on her happy face.

"Good. Unless we are at a formal gathering you are to address me as father, Ok?.", The Emperor says while trying his best to lower his normally domineering style of speaking to something easy to pick by a six year old.

"Yes father.", Monet responds with a full smile as she finally looks up to meet her father's tender yet imposing gaze.

Looking into his daughter's eyes, the Emperor sighs inside.

He knows that he is not the best father to his hundred(+) children nor is he the best husband to his consorts.

He is someone that's too busy for emotions and too cold to truly sympathise and so, he tries his best to prepare the best mould and ingredients for his children while silently moving hands in hope that they would turn out the best.

Unlike what most think, the continent is not as stable as they hope neither is the Emperor's position, his family's position or the world's position for that matter.

The Imperial Court is nothing but a mighty association for the most bloody political power-games that involves the most malicious powerhouses.

Take your eyes off the board and you or the game itself would be burnt to hell before you even realise it!.

As the Emperor if thus brutal power landscape, he has no time nor does he feel the need for apologies as he places his heavy role of Emperor before all others.

Wiping out unnecessary thoughts, with outstretched hands the Emperor calmly takes his new baby daughter out of her mother's hands and into his arms for the first time.

Holding the baby princess up, the Emperor feels his blood racing through her as he looks at his new daughter's face clearly for the first time.

She has a milder version of all his features_his hair, his eyes and even his gaze.

The Emperor smiles warmly as he feels her tiny hands squeezing deeply onto his pinkie finger while creating a warmth envelope second to none other.

Still tenderly staring at his daughter, the Emperor silently marks her with his aura before speaking as if to the very world itself.

Usually he allows the mothers to deal with the name process and will not interfere unless it's something he dislikes but this time,.. the Emperor feels the need to give a name to the child in his arms.

"Her name would be Seflim.. Seflim Andruv -ö- Niel.", The Emperor orders.

The child in the Emperor's hands gives a toothless yarn while causing the Emperor to smile a bit more.

This child has obviously taken a deep root in his heart that would only grow with passing time.

Turning towards the child's mother who is no longer looking at him in a complex manner, the Emperor speaks.

"..I will provide her the best of whatever she will need till she comes of age. She should learn how wield an Imperial's might. She would be appointed as 'True Imperial Princess' when she proves herself and would be allowed the privilege to compete for the throne to become an 'Exalted Empress.'". The Emperor says calmly while still looking at his daughter.

A few seconds passes and then a question softly rings out.

"Does she stand a chance?.", Consort Tamara asks with slightly tensed fists in her blanket thoughts she subconsciously knows the answers as she looks up at the face of the Emperor who is still absorbed by the face of his daughter.

Taking his eyes off his daughter, the Emperor looks towards Tamara with slightly raised brows and then he responds.

"No.", The Emperor calmly replies without a change in his calm tone nor facial expression.

Slowly, Consort Tamara fingers balls-up into fists as she holds her blankets with her knuckles turning white.

She looks up at the Emperor with brown eyes filled with venomous emotions and the Emperor ignores her gaze before continuing to stare tenderly at his daughter.

Although Tamara already knows the reality, he(The Emperor) could have said something better!.

He could have!.

"Then are you only saying all this to mock your own daughter?!.", Consort Tamara asks with unhidden rage in her every word.

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